Inseparable
by ElizabethAnnFanfic
Summary: Post-ep for 2x01 Little Green Men. UST, Friendship. Mulder acknowledges his needs and takes comfort in the fact that they haven't been able to take Scully from him.


Timeline: 2x01 Little Green Men

Category: Post-episode fiction

At first he had wanted to ignore the need. The need to see her. To hear her voice. To walk beside her. He'd wanted to ignore it, because he wanted to believe that his priorities were unchanged. The X-files had been closed, but he still needed to know The Truth. He had to bring The Truth to the world. The very deserving world.

She had been an excellent partner. Their partnership seemed to promise the possibility that truths could be uncovered. That's how much he believed in her abilities. He didn't believe in anyone else like he did Agent Scully. He trusted her. But the X-files were closed and she'd been reassigned. Wanting to catch a glimpse of her, wanting to hear her voice on his message machine, and praying that a colleague would mention her in passing—these were distractions that had nothing to do with his priorities.

Seeing her brought it all back. It made him face his need. She had given him so much in such a short time. She'd taught him that he needed proof. Solid proof that couldn't be denied. But maybe what she'd given to him personally was just as important. She'd shown him that he could trust again. He could trust her. And he did. Her leaving left him needy. He wanted to reach out and share things with her. But they'd taken her away—almost as if they knew his need.

'I'm a mess,' he thought, scrubbing his face with his hand.

He looked up from the tape, the blank tape that refused to play back the evidence he had so hoped for. He stared out the door through which she had exited some ten minutes ago. He'd kept listening to the tape, willing it to play something of worth.

No, he still didn't have evidence. He was still stuck doing surveillance. But he'd been wrong about something. They couldn't take her from him. He still had her. She'd come for him. He wasn't alone. It would take more than a reassignment to separate him from Dana Scully.

* * *

It would be another day of teaching tomorrow. Another day of going through the motions. The transition was turning out to be harder than she'd imagined it would be when Mulder had told her that the X-files were closed and she was being reassigned. She missed working on the X-files. She missed being on assignment and having her limits be tested. She missed her partner.

When he'd walked past her in the bullpen like she no longer existed, it had made her heart skip several beats. He hadn't called. He hadn't visited. She wasn't sure what she expected, but she thought their partnership wouldn't be so easily severed. Of course, she also had not called. Hadn't visited. She wasn't sure what she'd say. Or how he'd react. Maybe he'd think it was strange that she just wanted to say hello. Maybe he'd seem depressed and manic, and that would only make things harder for her when she walked away back to her new job and new life.

Mulder thought they were being watched. Monitored. That's why he hadn't called. Hadn't made contact with her in weeks. That was strangely comforting. It wasn't that he didn't care. It was that he cared too much. And that he was totally paranoid. She thought he was wrong. It was ridiculous to think that she was so important as to bear watching. That they were that important. She thought he was wrong until he disappeared and she was being questioned by AD Skinner about his whereabouts. Clearly someone still thought that she would know the where and the why.

And she already knew that she would go to the ends of the earth for Mulder, if need be. If he needed her help, the fact that she had been reassigned wasn't going to prevent her from doing all she could for Mulder. So, this hadn't really been a test. Reassignment wasn't enough to drive them apart.

Her cell phone rang on the counter, where she'd deposited it when she entered her apartment. She pulled herself out of her overstuffed chair and walked over in her stocking feet to the phone. She looked at the caller-ID, which displayed Mulder's number. She thought they were being monitored.

"Scully."

"There's still nothing there."

"On the reel?" she asked, leaning against the counter.

"I just thought I'd let you know. No miraculous recovery of evidence. In case you were wondering."

"I'm always wondering about you, Mulder," she said softly.

"That's good of you," he responded after a pause.

He clearly didn't know what to make of her comment.

"You give me a lot of material to work with."

"It's not all bad," he replied perhaps a little defensively.

"No."

She wouldn't miss it so much if it had been all bad. She wouldn't miss him.

"I got you a surprise trip to San Juan."

Not exactly the vacation she had been hoping for—being shot at by Blue Berets.

"Are you sure that you should be confessing our complicity, Mulder? Over unsecure lines?" she teased, rubbing her eyes with her free hand.

"I think our cover is already blown, Scully. Those bastards might as well know for sure that they haven't won."

Scully wasn't expecting this kind of optimism when she'd left Mulder over an hour ago staring at empty reels. Suddenly that didn't matter to him?

"No? The loss of the evidence?"

"No, there is always loss of evidence. I'm always an arm's length away from the Holy Grail of evidence. But, I think whether we're together or not, Scully…you and me…we're a formidable threat to them. I think they know it and they're afraid. I don't know, but I prefer being on the other side of that threat."

"Maybe you're right."

"I know I am."

"Always so certain, Mulder."

Scully looked up at the clock on the wall.

"Mulder?"

"Yeah?"

"You've had a hell of a week. Why don't you go home and get some sleep?"

"Yeah. Maybe."

"And Mulder?"

"Yeah?"

Scully drew imaginary lines on the tile of her counter with her index finger, pondering what she could safely say. "Call me sometime."

"I just did."

"I like to know you're okay."

"I will be."


End file.
